Friday the 13th:The Bloodbath Continues
by GoldRedeemer
Summary: I do not own the character of Jason Voorhees, or Friday the 13th. I am an amateur writer,mainly as a hobby. For entertainment purposes only.


An eerie mist settled over the foliage of the dark woods, as a solitary figure trudged on through the night. The wounded man moved with the swiftness of an animal, attempting to pass unseen and undetected by the authorities. Crimson fluid seeped from the nasty shoulder wound, as the man's right hand and forearm concealed most of it.

He required a bit of rest. Maybe even some type of nourishment along the way. He would worry about that later.

The sound of a running brook up ahead through the thickness, urged him on. He emerged through the brush, pushing branches and limbs aside, splashing into the creek that came up to his knees, crossing to the other side, making his way through the dampened forest. He had now distanced himself quite far from the last murder site. But he felt it was best to continue moving. Above the shadowed killer, a full moon gleamed in the night sky, illuminating a wounded Jason Voorhees.

A large log cabin stood in a clearing among the dark woods. A trail lead in front of the house and through a section of the forest. Not far from the path, was a big lake, complete with a small boating dock. Jason carefully approached the cabin. All of the windows were dark, leaving the killer to wonder if it was abandoned. In all seriousness, that didn't matter to him. Jason was prepared to kill anyone sleeping inside of the cabin.

A massive, bloody hand closed around the handle of the cabin's front door. Jason pulled, only to discover it locked. His shoulder began to bother him again as he turned his body around on the front porch,facing away from the house. There was a shed standing by the lake, next to a pier, it's form silhouetted against the dark sky. Gripping at his injured shoulder, Jason cautiously approached the shed.

In the east, the sky began to lighten as the dawn grew near, while Jason stood outside of the small shed. He could rest here for awhile, until he had gained most of his strength back.

There was nothing that Jason could do for his wounded shoulder. For some strange reason, despite the massive loss of blood, he did not feel as much pain. Not like an ordinary man would. Jason retreated into the shed's rear. He huddled inside, with his back against the dusty wall. The man didn't make a sound, did not even blink. All he did... was wait.

Chapter 2

22 year old Brett Anderson felt as if her life could not get any better. She had been engaged to quite possibly the best man alive, for seven months. She knew that was such a silly way of looking at it, but she didn't care.

As Brett drove a dark blue van along the highway, the wind whipping through her long brown hair, she thought of the time she had met Dave while in college. His major was zoology, while Brett's was in business. He seemed surprised when she agreed to go on a date with him. From that point on, the two seemed to click very well.

Brett was on her way to see him now. It was their summer break from school, and the two of them were taking a vacation,very close... to Crystal Lake.

Brett pulled up in front of a small apartment building in a quiet suburban neighborhood. It was mid morning, and kids were out running and playing down the street. Brett smiled as she stepped out of the van, shutting the door behind her.

She was very attractive, a woman with striking features, brown eyes,a slender, but althletic body. Red slacks covered her long legs with ankle boots worn on her feet. Brett walked with confidence up the walkway of the apartment house. Before she made it up to the building, the door burst open!

A young man hopped out, wearing shorts and a tank, attempting at some type of rockstar pose. David Green smiled at the young woman strolling up to him, who giggled at her boyfriend's attempt at being a class clown. The two embraced and shared a passionate kiss. David was a well built, strong young gentleman. His blonde hair was buzzed,giving him a sort of military look. At 21, he was a rather mature guy, modest, in some ways.

Brett and Dave reentered his apartment, as Brett gave him the lowdown of what was to take place over the course of their vacation. Brett owned a lakefront cabin in a private section of Crystal Lake. "So, what do ya think?" Brett asked anxiously. "I've been wanting to go back there for some time. I'd love for you to see it." She sat down on a sofa in David's living room. "Besides, I'd rather not go alone."

Dave grinned mischieviously as he sat next to his girlfriend. "A week alone with you would be awesome, babe." He pulled Brett close to him. "And you say it's a lakefront cabin? Count me in!" They kissed again, and Dave could feel himself becoming aroused, but Brett looked at him scoldingly, holding up a solitary finger, waving it to and fro. Dave respected Brett's choice of wanting to wait until getting married before going to bed with him. He loved her and that outweighed everything. "Cold shower, here I COME!" Dave stood up as Brett shrugged. "Very funny."

Daylight. The inside of the storage shed was dim and dusty as the man sat in the shadows. The wound on his shoulder was caked with red, staining the fresh work shirt that the killer discovered hanging inside the closet. It rested on his bulky frame. The killer required more rest. He felt somewhat secure where he was, not hearing any police or ambulance sirens for a while. Around him in the murk, faint streams of sunlight found their way through the slats of the walls onto the deformed face of Jason.

"Come on guys, we're almost there!" Five young teenagers hiked along a path in the forest, cutting off into thick foliage. "Through here," a dark haired young man said. He ducked under thick branches and stepped through, into a clearing. The others followed. Two females and two more young men. They were greeted by a breathtaking view of the lake, which appeared as calm as glass. A large two story cabin stood not far away.

"Rock and roll,man! We found it!" The dark haired boy was named Jameson, sort of a jock type wearing a letterman's jacket and dark hair combed in a mohawk style. "My sis's place. She's always out of town, we can chill here for a while!" The teens all dropped their gear and dashed toward the lake, admiring the scenery and stillness of the surrounding area. It was quite tranquil.

"I could so live here," one of the girls said. Her name was Lee, always tending to wear either a sweatshirt, or a t shirt displaying the clothing logo, 'LEE'. "So how'd your sister happen upon a place like this? It's amazingly pretty."

Jameson stretched near the edge of the glittering water as he responded. "Through her side of the family. We are half blood."

Lee nodded her head, looking back toward the water, as Jameson spoke. "The property was left to Brett after some relatives of hers passed away some years ago." Jameson's expression became grim for a moment, as random memories from the past filled his mind. He hadn't been here in about seven years, about the same time that he had last seen his older sister, Brett.

"You alright, James?" Lee asked, as she stripped off her long t-shirt, revealing a two piece bathing suit underneath. "Let's all take a quick dip!" Lee dashed toward the crystal clear water, her slender form splashing about. She dived in, disappearing in the blue, as her other friends, Corey, Sally, Paul, and Jameson removed their clothing to take a morning swim. The weather seemed permissible enough. Despite how early it was, it was a rather warm, humid morning. The teenagers splashed and swam around in the cool lake, having the time of their young lives. The date was Thursday, April 12th.

David stood in the bedroom of his small apartment, taking inventory on all of the necessities required for the trip. Brett could see the excitement in him as he moved through the apartment in a hurry, grabbing last minutes items. On his bed lay a large hunting knife, two flashlights, two packs of batteries, marshmallows, graham crackers and a bag of mini chocolate bars. Brett moved toward the bed, observing the junk food. "How romantic," she joked. "Is this going to be our dinner, or dessert?"

David moved in and grabbed Brett, kissing her gently on her mouth. "Hmmmmmm, you know I'd rather have you instead." Brett smiled, blushing heavily. She wanted David just as badly as he wanted her, but Brett wanted it to be right. After they were married.

The two of them had discussed having children one day. No more than three, David said. He had grown up with six siblings that drove his parents to hell and back. Anyway, there was still some time to put more thought into starting a family. Brett still wanted to enjoy her life while she could.

Brett and David loaded the rear of the van with the equipment and two duffel bags filled with their personal belongings. David noticed that Brett had already gone shopping for food and water, the brown bags set neatly behind the passenger's seat. "Is that everything babe?" Brett asked. David thought for a brief moment, then his eyes popped open. "Ohhhh, need my camera!" He ran back inside of the building as Brett shut the rear doors of her van. She walked around to the front to open the driver side door, fishing out a large backpack.

David emerged from the apartment building, the door closing behind him, as Brett approached the building to enter again. David looked puzzled. "Where are you going?, he asked,with a devilish smirk on his handsome face. "Change your mind did you?"

Brett threw her head back and laughed. "I just need to change. The drive is like nine hours." She stepped up to the door of the apartment building with a key in her right hand, glancing back at David. "I won't be but a minute," she reassured him, and entered the building. David stood by the van, chuckling. "Women."

The odor of decayed fish reeked throughout the shed, as Jason lay inside, in the dark, recooperating. The smell did not seem to bother him. He had lived like a wild animal for many many years in the woods, enduring many unpleasant odors and conditions. He would wait inside for as long as he needed to, until his strength had returned.

He could see that it was now daylight, as thin streams of sunlight found its way inside. Jason slowly rose from the floor, standing motionless for a time, listening. Upon his arrival on the night before, the property had been desolate, as far as he knew. Jason hadn't enough strength to break into the cabin that night to see if it was empty. It didn't much concern him though. The shed had been enough to shelter the killer.

The unmistakable sound of a girl's laughter reached Jason's ears. He knew certain sounds all too well as he stood quietly in the murk. More sounds of laughter now. Along with random voices talking amongst each other.

Jason eased his way to the front of the shed, and peered through the door. The sun shone brightly and a warm morning breeze carried past the killer's hideously deformed face. Great fists clenched together tightly, as Jason watched, in the distance, two young teens running about, in their swimsuits. One male and one female. Jason stepped from behind the door, his body partially concealed as he tried getting a better view of the teens. The girl laughed as the boy chased her, the two of them completely oblivious to Jason observing them from the old storage shed. The time was not quite right yet, to continue with Mother's work. He would wait until he had fully recooperated. More than likely, on the next day. Friday, the 13th.

Jameson and his friends all headed through the clearing towards the two story cabin that awaited them after their swim. It had a rustic look to it, complete with a large front porch. A blue Volkswagon Beetle sat parked on the far left of the cabin under a large oak.

Corey placed a hand on Jameson's shoulder. "You did say that you had the key to get inside, right?" Jameson produced a key from the dry shorts he carried in a damp hand. "Right here, bro! We got the place to ourselves for a week!"

The two young men slapped palms as Lee produced a sandwich bag, filled with a green, substance, from her backpack. She grinned heartily. "I brought the party goods. And there's more where that came from."

Jameson grinned. "Okay, thats cool, but we have to smoke that outside. There's nobody around for miles, so we can do as much out here as we want."

Jameson pulled off his backpack in the living room of the cabin, as his other friends rummaged through their belongings and changed into dry clothes. "Did anybody remember to bring any food?" Paul asked, as he put his hiking boots back on, lacing them up. In the kitchen, Jameson searched the fridge and pantry, noticing that nothing had been stocked or replenished. He really hadn't expected anything to be restocked. The place had not been lived in for quite some time.

"Dang. Nothing, man. Zilch."

Sally entered the kitchen with her backpack. The girl produced a plastic sac from inside of it, filled with various kinds of uncooked meat. "My dad's a hunter, so I scored a bunch of meat from his deep freezer." She sat the plastic bag on the kitchen counter. "I brought some other junk we could eat, chips, hot dogs, shit like that. We're good."

"Kinda sucks," Corey remarked. "I was so hoping maybe we could order pizza from somewhere nearby."

"The closest town is fifteen miles," Jameson stated. "Besides, it'll be fun camping out and roasting deer meat over a nice fire." Corey gave a sarcastic expression as he put on a dry t shirt. "Such a boyscout."

Sally began to explore different areas of the cabin as the rest of the group sat in the living room, talking. It appeared well kept, despite some of the dust, but it was otherwise neat and orderly. A staircase before her, led Sally to the second floor, where she discovered a neatly kept bath and two bedrooms. The bathroom was quite immense, with a jacuzzi tub in the far corner. "Ive got a date with you later," she said to herself as she pulled the door shut again.

Sally entered the bedroom directly across from the bath, greeted by a queen size bed. Nice, she thought as she sat down on the mattress, testing it out. Sally felt glad to be a part of this little adventrous outing along with her friends. No doubt, it would be a week of fun for all of them.

She stood up from the bed, noticing a closet door across from the single window of the bedroom. Being the curious girl that she was, Sally approached the closet and pulled the door open. A clutter of shoe boxes filled with newspaper articles spilled onto the floor over Sally's feet. "Damn!" she said, as she stooped to the floor to gather everything up.

The papers were stacked neatly together, as Sally tended to everything as best as she could. One of the old articles grabbed her attention. The headline chilled her a bit as she gripped the paper in both of her clammy hands. "Massacre at Crystal Lake."

She found herself sitting down once again on the bed, reading the old article, alone in the bedroom. Sally remembered her parents briefly talking about an incident or two that had occurred years ago in Camp Crystal Lake, when she was an infant. The camp was at least four or five miles from where this cabin stood. Not terribly close, but also not terribly far.

"Jason Voorhees." Sally read the name aloud as she paged through more articles that displayed the name, along with the name Pamela Voorhees, who was Jason's deceased mother. According to the articles that Sally had just read, Jason was believed to be dead as well, drowned at the bottom of Crystal Lake. However, many people made fun of the legend and went about frightening one another, claiming that Jason was still roaming the woods, terrorizing and brutally killing anyone who tresspassed onto his territory.

He watched the blonde haired girl, through the cracked door as she stood up from the bed with the stack of old newspaper clippings, moving back toward the closet, her back facing him. She had no idea that someone stood just outside of the bedroom door, watching her... waiting.

Sally returned the shoeboxes of articles back to their place on the closet shelf, and closed the door back. Outside, the sun had been blotted out by a patch of clouds, causing the room to grow slightly dim.

Sally screamed hysterically as a figure wearing a hockey mask stood in the doorway, glaring at her, breathing heavily. What happened next, startled and confused her.

The figure in the doorway slouched over, as if in a great deal of pain.

He began laughing and Sally realized that she had just been pranked. She rushed foward and ripped the mask off of Corey's head. "You're the biggest, smelliest JACKASS EVER!" Sally lunged at Corey, who sprinted away from her, down the stairs, still laughing hard. "It was just a joke, Sal." He blew a kiss toward her as Sally bolted down the stairs after him. "It's what us teenagers do. Live a little! Or Jason will come and get ya!"

Sally shuddered and stormed past Corey, heading toward the front door. "Really not funny, Corey," she said, as she stepped onto the porch and disappeared. "What's gotten into her?" Lee asked. "She seems edgy. We need to smoke her out."

Chapter 3

The daylight intensified as the morning hours appeared to soar by. Sally decided to take a short walk around the lake, to admire its earthly beauty. She sighed, taking in a fresh breeze as she strolled along a dirt path not far from the water's edge. The area seemed like the last place where a serial killer would be hanging around. The old articles that Sally had read in the upstairs bedroom of the cabin, had made her a bit uneasy.

She wondered why so many article clippings had been saved in the shoebox. What person in Jameson's family would want to be reminded again of a bloody massacre that occurred such a short distance away? Maybe she would ask Jameson later, if he knew anything about what she had read. She really shouldn't have been snooping, but for some reason, Sally felt glad that she had come across the articles, at least to know about what had happened. It may be of some importance to be wary of the massacre that occurred in Crystal Lake, years ago.

She noticed a shed up ahead of her, along side of a wood pier. Sally trotted along towards it, intending to stand and view the water for a bit. As she approached, she could see that the end of the pier was in a rather dilapidated state, so instead of viewing the lake, Sally headed straight for the shed.

Trying her best to forget about the newspaper clippings, Sally leaned up against part of the small gray building. She pulled a stuffed one hitter from the pocket of her shorts, along with a lighter. Once she finished it, she reloaded her pen and enjoyed another toke, intent on clearing her mind so that she could loosen up. Later on, Sally planned to get pleasantly lit with her friends.

The door to the shed stood slightly ajar, Sally noticed. She moved closer, as the stench of the rotted fish reached her nostrils, causing her to frown. Curious, the girl pushed the door open a bit more, to glance inside. All she could see was boating equipment, life vests, bouys, a couple of flare guns and extra oars.

"Nothing special here," she said to herself. Sally stood in the doorway for a moment, as a sudden chill seemed to envelop her. She could feel the hair on her neck standing up, as if someone was... watching her.

Sally took a breath, noticing how shadowy the shed appeared. It was rather dim inside, and the smell made her want to retreat fast. Although, under the surface, Sally knew that the creepiness of the shed itself was what really made her want to retreat. The newspaper clippings that she had discovered had really put her on edge.

Well concealed, Jason watched the young blonde girl as she stood in the doorway . He kept very still, with his eyes locked on her, intent on seeing what she would do next. If Jason had decided to stand, the girl would clearly see him, and it was likely that she would run. But Jason kept his position, remaining crouched behind a small canoe. It was not time yet. The killer did not move after the girl stepped out, shutting the door after her. Jason waited in the dim shadows, alone, once again.

Brett drove. To her, it seemed to feel as if she had been driving for hours. The roads always appeared to go on endlessly. It was easy to fall into a trance while driving. She made sure to keep her eyes moving, and not always focused on just one particular thing.

The day was partially overcast, as Brett's van sped along the highway. Traffic was moderate, and it was only a Thursday afternoon. However, not many people had much reason to travel the same way Brett was heading. Crystal Lake did not have the greatest reputation afterall. Many believed that visiting or passing through, was a death wish. Bad luck. Things had happened there. Horrible things. But that was a long time ago. Right?

Brett glanced in her rear view mirror. David was passed out on top of a cushy sleeping bag, snoring. Empty potato chip bags and soda cans on either side of him. Brett smiled as she rusumed her focus on the road, feeling grateful about having her fiancee along with her.

However, right now, Brett was experiencing an emergency. Although, it was fairly minor. She needed to find a bathroom.

"Nature calls." she said to herself, hoping that she would be able to hang on for another three miles to the next rest stop. She pressed her sneakered foot on the accelerator , speeding the van up on the highway.

Brett gritted her even, white teeth in anticipation.

An explosion under the rear of the van rocked the vehicle, causing it to jerk off course. Brett kept her composure maintained, jerking the steering wheel back on the road as David startled awake. A tire had blown.

"It's OK! I got it babe! Gotta pull this baby over!" The van continued to roll along the highway, the rest stop now coming into view. "What timing!" She shifted to neutral ,aiming the van toward the exit ramp, allowing the vehicle to roll down the steep asphalt, pulling directly into the rest stop parking lot.

Brett sighed heavily, not at all satisfied with her current predictament. She was disappointed in herself and would rather have dealt with wetting her jeans as opposed to a blown rear tire. She sat there in the van, staring at nothing for a moment. She then realized that she was being stared at by David, giving her a "How could you fuck up" look. Brett felt herself grow warm with shame.

But she wasn't having this shit from him right now. They needed to get back on the road, and in order for that to happen, the tire had to be replaced. "No problem," She said. "I have a spare."

"Are you okay?" David asked, concerned. Brett nodded as she looked his way. She could see that he didn't appear freaked out, or angry. He only glistened a bit from apparently sweating.

"We should check the tire, see if there's any damage." David stroked Brett's long brown hair gently, giving her a soft kiss. She smiled a little,grateful for him, despite their newfound dilema.

Brett opened the driverside door to jump out. The cold air that she felt when her body was halfway outside, caused her to retreat back inside of the van for her jacket. Amazing how cold it had gotten outside. They were now maybe seven miles from their destination, from the cabin that Brett had inherited from her relatives.

After rummaging through her duffel bag, Brett recovered her Member's Only jacket. She pulled it over her blue turtleneck sweater, and went back to the driver's seat, removing the keys from the ignition. She stuck them into the pocket of her dark jeans.

David was nowhere inside of the van. Brett looked around, calling for her fiancee. "Daaaave!" she said firmly.

"Where are you?"

There was a tapping behind her,originating from the outer side of the van. "I'm outside honey," David said. Brett sighed, feeling relieved to know that he was close.

Chapter 4

The sky was beginning to darken in the west, but dusk had not yet arrived over Crystal Lake. The air had developed quite a chill as the sun started to set in the clear blue sky. It would not be very much longer before the woods would grow colder and dark.

Jameson and his friends Corey, Sally,Lee,and Paul, sat around a nicely built fire, a few yards in front of the log cabin. There had been enough firewood on the porch, so the group decided to make good use of it. Each teen held a skewer with a large hunk of deer meat on the end, over the blazing fire.

Corey could not help but snicker as he met eyes with Sally, who had brought the deer meat. "Are ya still mad at me, Sal?" He jokingly held up the hockey mask used during his prank on the girl. She simply ignored him, looking straight ahead into the fire as she held her skewer of meat.

"Don't be an idiot, man," Lee chimed in. "Stop teasin her, and lets just focus on getting our smoke on!" Lee produced a pipe for the group to pass around amongst themselves.

Corey, not being much of a smoker, stood up from the campfire, stretching. "Well, you kiddies have fun. I'm goin off to meditate." He grabbed a beer from the portable cooler sitting away from the fire. After that, he turned and headed off toward the lake, away from his group of friends, huddled around the nice fire. The delicious aroma of roasting meat filled the early April evening.

As Corey walked off, Paul moved to the center of the group, sitting down on a sleeping bag. "So, Jameson," he said. "Are we really not all that far from Camp Blood?" Lee looked up from her cassette player. "Camp whaa?"

"Camp Blood." It was Sally who spoke up this time. "It's about four miles from here, west of where we are now." Everyone looked at her,curiously. "I heard some people talking about the legend once." she finished.

Jameson sighed, rolling his eyes. "Can't we talk about somethin else, you guys?" Paul chuckled, upon seeing his friend unnerved by their topic of discussion. "Wow,Jamie! You're actually scared, man!"

Jameson reached for the pipe to take a hit. Afterwards, he sat back and looked at the fire. "Naaah, bro. I'm not scared. Just bored with make-believe shit." Jameson grabbed a beer, popped off the cap and chugged. "Blast the music! This is supposed to be a party!"

"I'm down!" Lee remarked as she pulled a radio cassette player out of her backpack. She pressed a button and techno music blared throughout the clearing. Both girls stood up and began dancing to the beat of the loud music. Jameson and Paul looked on, enjoying the fire, beer, tasty deer meat, and dancing girls. "Maaan, Corey's missin all the fun!" Jameson glanced back toward the lake. Corey was nowhere in sight. "Yeah! His loss, man.", Paul agreed.

The empty beer bottle hit the lake water with a brief splash, after Corey launched it with a swing of his arm. He picked up a rock on the shore, tossing that into the lake as well. So far, he kinda found this whole excersion boring. Earlier, as he was heading away from the campfire, he overheard Sally mention that the legendary, Camp Blood, was about four miles away.

Too far to walk, he thought to himself. He was hoping that Jameson would have brought them alot closer. If the camp really was still standing, Corey wanted to see it.

Anyways, it wasn't a good idea to become separated from the rest of the group.

The woods were immense out here, and it was very possible that he could get lost. Best to stay around camp.

Corey wanted another beer, wishing that he would have grabbed more than one. He would go back in a second, after he checked out the shed.

Tucking the hockey mask into his hooded sweater, Corey grasped the knob of the old door, pushing it open. The darkness inside greeted him, along with a horrible fish smell. Covering his nose with one hand, he groped inside the door for a light switch. There was none. Corey fished in his pocket for his trusty Zippo lighter. He opened it and flicked it on, holding it up in the doorway, as he stepped through the threshold.

The odor of the fish seemed to intensify as Corey moved deeper through the shed, filled with dark shadows. There wasn't much that he could see with it being dark, besides boat equipment.

But there had to be a light switch... somewhere inside.

He could hear the blast of techno music playing by the campfire a distance away. It helped comfort him in some way, while fishing around in the dark .

The rear of the shed had been stored with various gardening tools, a couple of axes for chopping wood, and even a chainsaw. Jason calmly reached for an ax, gripping it firmly as he hefted it in one hand. The mute killer then stepped foward silently.

"Where in the heck is the friggin light switch?" As Corey felt along a wall near the rear, the lighter dropped from his grasp. He attempted to catch it, but failed, accidentally slapping it further away. It slid toward a shadowy corner, swallowed by the dark.

Scoffing, Corey bent low, feeling around on the floor in the dark for the lighter. "Damn it! Where is the damn thing?" His fingers touched something. Nothing but a ragged, ripped shirt, stained with a peculiar substance.

Weird. But Corey thought nothing more of it as he resumed his search for the Zippo lighter.

"Ahhh, I think I found you," said Corey, as his right hand closed around the familiar square lighter. He was ready to go back outside, before the odor made him vomit. Flicking the lighter on once again, Corey stood up and turned around.

The face that Corey's lighter illuminated in the dark in front of him, could only be described as, being straight from Hell. The young man's mouth dropped, not sure of what exactly was going on, if this was some kind of prank, or if this was indeed...real.

There was no clear place to run that Corey could see. The hellish looking man was big and standing in the teen's way. He reached for Corey, who, now hysterical, made a mad dash to his right, dropping the Zippo lighter again. Corey grunted in pain as he rushed smack dab into a canoe. He fell on his back in the darkness, writhing in pain, vision completely blurred.

The Zippo lighter remained lit as it rested on the ground, illuminating Corey's hockey mask that had fallen out of his hoodie when his body had struck the canoe. Corey tried to get up, but a heavy, dirty workshoe pushed him back to the floor. A large hand reached down, and retrieved the dropped mask.

Jason set the mask carefully over his hideous face, as Corey lay pinned to the ground beneath his heavy foot. "Please...Please don't hurt me..." Corey said weakly. Demented eyes peered coldly at the fallen teenager through the holes of the hockey mask.

The killer was partially in silhouette form, from the Zippo lighter, creating the most terrifying scene as Corey helplessly watched the man raise a large ax behind his masked, bald head. An ear piercing scream erupted from the shed, but was immediately cut short. After that, the only sound heard was the music blaring from Lee's radio.

Chapter 5

After using the restroom, Brett stood inside of the rest stop, eyeing a vending machine filled with various snacks and candy. She inserted a dollar bill, selecting an O Henry bar for David. The candy bar was dumped into the slot for retrieval as Brett produced another dollar to select a snack for herself. She settled for two granola bars, and gathered up the snacks from the vending slot.

David was examining the blown tire, holding a flashlight as he squatted along the rear driverside. Brett walked up, standing close behind to obtain a look. "My bad," she said, somewhat embarrassed. "I suck."

David smiled, goodheartedly. "Shit happens. Just glad there doesn't appear to be any damage to your rear axle." He stood up, buttoning his jean jacket as the cool night air made its way to his warm flesh.

"I'll get the spare," David said.

Brett followed him to the rear of the van to the spare tire compartment. The thick rubber lay inside, still reeking of a new tire smell. "Bingo," said David. All we need is a jack." He turned to Brett, accepting the candy bar she offered him. "Please tell me you have a jack?"

The night was not turning out to be a good one for Brett as she realized that she did not have a jack in order to lift up the van. "I guess I wasn't as prepared for this trip like I thought I was." Brett turned away from David, who placed his hands on her shoulders. He turned his girl around and held her as tight as he could. "It's ok . It's ok. We're not perfect." He looked into her big brown eyes.

"You're the girl I wanna spend my entire life with," said David, as he kissed her.

The two held one another for a brief moment, as it grew darker. The wind had started up a bit, turning the air more frigid. "Looks like we are gonna be crashing in the van tonight," said David. "It'll be fun. We also got nearby restrooms and vending machines."

Brett followed him to the rear of the van, hopping inside through the double doors. "Tell me it doesn't get better than this." David rummaged through a sack, pulling out a ziplock bag containing two large chicken sandwiches. He passed one to Brett, who licked her lips hungrily.

"Dave, what are we gonna do about the tire?", asked Brett as she sat on the floor of her van across from David, who was sprawled across his sleeping bag. He pulled off his shirt as he spoke,revealing a well defined upper torso.

"I was thinking maybe we hike the rest of the way to the cabin. There aren't any payphones outside." David pulled off his trousers, now only in his shorts. "We could call Triple A from the cabin, and they can drive us back to the van and get the tire fixed."

"Well, thats a pretty long hike." said Brett. "We're still like seven miles from...ummm, David, what are you doing?"

Brett stared in awe as she watched David remove his shorts, now completely nude. He slipped between his unzipped sleeping bag and laid there, looking at Brett seductively. "Brett, babe, come and join me," he said with a little too much grin.

Brett could only sit there with her jaw dropped. She couldn't believe what her fiancee was asking of her. Embarrassed, she got up and hopped out of one of the van doors. David covered his chest with part of his sleeping bag. "Awwww, come on, babe!" He watched Brett walk off a short distance, and the dark swallowed her form. Dave put his head in his hands, as he sighed heavily.

Brett stood alone in the darkness, on the edge of what appeared to be a solid wall of trees. It was oddly quiet. Not even a single crickett chirped. The only sound Brett could hear was an occasional vehicle along the highway.

Above, the moon revealed itself, from behind a thick cluster of clouds.

The eerie silence made Brett wonder what kind of wild animals could be lurking in the woods that appeared to silence the usual nocturnal animals. The shadows around her, resembled large, lumbering shapes, as if they were alive... meaning to grab her.

The young woman was feeling uneasy all of a sudden, remembering that the area where the murders had been committed, was not too far off. Suddenly, Brett wanted to turn back, to forget about the whole idea of spending a week at the cabin. They were indeed, much closer than they thought to Camp Blood.

She folded her arms around her body, shivering from the night air. She turned around, realizing that she had walked farther than she realized. All around Brett, was pitch black. The moon was hidden once again by the dark clouds, as she stumbled through tall weeds and bushes. She called out for Dave, trying to see her way in the black. "This night just couldn't get any worse!" said Brett, who did not see the fallen limb of a tree in her path.

Brett tripped over the log with a yelp, landing sprawled in the woods, swearing. She pushed herself up on her hands, positioning herself in a squat. After scanning the dark with her eyes as best as she could, Brett managed to relax a bit, and stood up, brushing herself off.

A large hand gripped her shoulder and reflexively, Brett launched an elbow back, striking the assailant in the gut. "OOOOOOFFF!" The dark shape fell backwards to the cold,leafy ground.

Brett gasped in shock as she realized the man she had hit was Dave, her fiancee, as she heard his familiar groan. Brett reached down to tend to him. "Dave! Thank Gosh, it's just you."

David rubbed his stomach, as he sat on the ground. He chuckled as Brett brushed the dirt from his clothing. 'Who did you think I was? Jason?"

Brett didn't reply, however the name that David had just spoke of, sent an unpleasant chill down her spine, more so than from the cold. "Let's go back to the van," Brett suggested.

They found their way through the forest trees, as the bright lights of the rest stop came back into view.

Brett felt better, being out of the pitch dark. "So," said David. "You going to kiss it better?"

"What?" Brett replied.

David smiled. "My tummy."

Brett stepped up through the rear doors of the van with David following behind. He pulled the doors shut as Brett pulled out her sleeping bag, spreading it open on the carpet floor. She then sat down and began removing her sneakers. "Well... why don't you climb in here with me, and I'll see what I can do.", Brett said.

David's mouth hung open as Brett lay inside of the sleeping bag, beckoning to him. She resembled a female devil in the gloom, and David was anxious to see just how "devlish" she could be. He pulled off his jacket and shirt, and snuggled in next to Brett, who giggled amusingly. "This is kind of a fun outing, camping in the van," Brett noted. David stroked her hair. "I told you this was going to be fun," he replied. "Anywhere is fun with you, babe." He kissed her deeply as Brett responded passionately, moaning, with intense pleasure.

Brett opened her eyes, squinting as the morning sun blinded her vision. She yawned and sat up from the sleeping bag, feeling Dave next to her, still apparently snoozing. She reached over to touch his shoulder gently. To her puzzlement, she felt something warm and wet on his body. Brett pulled her hand back, gasping in horror at the blood smeared all over her fingers. She rolled David over on his back.

A nasty looking gash lined his throat as it seeped with crimson blood, David's eyes wide and forever frozen with shock. Brett screamed, recoiling with the greatest terror she had ever known. She scrambled to her feet, attempting to escape, realizing that danger was all around her. She tried opening the doors, but they did not budge. "Come On! Come On!" Brett was trapped.

Panic began to overtake her, as Brett sank to the carpet floor, now dampened with the blood of her dead fiancee. The side door of the van was suddenly wrenched open, the outside light blinding Brett's eyes for a moment. A silhouette of someone very big stood there by the vehicle, looking down at her. The woman screamed a blood curdling cry as the dark shape tightened it's hands around her throat. She was being strangled and could not defend herself. She...

Brett gasped as she awoke, startled. She whirled around, looking nervously about her in the dark van, sweat coating her warm skin. David lay snoring, inside of his sleeping bag peacefully. Brett felt herself begin to gradually calm down. The dream had seemed so real,as real as her fast pounding heart that soon regained its normal beat.

She had not said anything to Dave about it, but Brett noticed that the closer they arrived to Crystal Lake, the more on edge she became... and with understandable reason. Brett tried her best at being strong about going back to the cabin, but she could not quite seem to... relax.

David stirred, turning over towards Brett. His eyes opened after he yawned, then sat up beside her, gently touching her shoulder. "Bad dream, babe?" he asked in his most concerned voice.

Brett pushed her hair away from her face, sighing. "Dave, there's something I haven't told you, about how my cousins and uncle... died."

As the sun was cresting the horizon, Brett and David sat together at a picnic table of the rest stop. She revealed to him a horrifying tale of her family, being attacked in the lakefront cabin seven years ago. Brett had been the only one who managed to survive, keeping out of sight from the murderer. She held her face in her own hands, crying at the table. The killer had never been caught. "If only I had done something," she began, "instead of hiding, they would probably be alive today."

David reached for her hands, closing his fingers around hers. "Honey, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Brett continued to quietly sob as David spoke softly to her. "Don't beat yourself up over it. You were a kid. What could you have done, babe?"

She looked at him from across the table, her brown eyes rimmed with tears as she thought about the question.

"I'm sorry about spoiling the trip," she said regretfully

"Don't be silly, Brett. I'm having a great time just being with you."

Dave gave her a concerned look as he wiped away her tears. "Are you going to be okay? We don't have to go back to the cabin if you don't want to."

Brett tried her best to smile, hearing the pleasant sound of birds singing their morning songs.

"We're pretty close, so we may as well complete the trip. Anyways, there are some things there that I really want to pick up." Brett stood from the table, David doing the same. "I guess we will have to end up hiking the rest of the way," she added.

David sat in the van, lacing up his boots. It felt cool as the morning progressed, so he put on a pair of khaki shorts and a gray hoodie over a red t-shirt. Next, he retrieved his big backpack, hauling it up on his body.

Brett made sure she had the keys to her van, locking the doors afterward. She made certain that both of their packs had been filled with an abundance of food, bottles of water, and a first aid kit for the trek. The hunting knife and one of the flashlights were contained inside of her backpack.

David stood at the rear of the van, waiting for her.

"Have we got all that we need?" he asked.

"Yea. All that we can carry without tiring us out." Brett approached, standing beside David. "You think she will be ok here until we come back?" she asked, lightly patting her van.

"I think so. This highway seems so deserted. I haven't seen but maybe seven cars on the road all morning." David pulled a bottle of water from a pouch in his backpack. "I don't think anyone will mess with the van, babe."

Brett closed the rear doors of the van, making certain that they were shut tightly. As she turned and began to step away, a series of thoughts ran through her mind. Questions. Was this a really smart thing to do? Were the woods safe enough to travel through on foot? The cabin was approximately seven miles from her and David's location. The walk would be no more than five or six hours. Everything would be just fine. She tried telling this to herself, wanting to believe it.

At least David was with her, and that made Brett feel ten times more secure. She pulled out a map of Crystal Lake, studying it for a brief moment. "It will be much faster if we cut through the woods. I used to do a little exploring in this area when I was a kid." She stuck the map in the pocket of her jacket. "Are ya ready?"

Dave took her hand and the two of them set off on their long walk, leaving the van behind. The morning sky was eerily overcast. Brett and David didn't realize that today was Friday the 13th, as they headed into the thick forest.

Chapter 6

The water was cold, but refreshing to Lee, as she swam her body through the calm lake currents. She wore only a pair of bikini bottoms, gliding along on her back. It was a cloudy day, with an even, cool breeze. Lee noticed a flock of ducks a short distance away from her, splashing in the water. She grinned.

It seemed very tranquil here, a place where Lee would consider revisiting again, over time. Too bad they were only staying for the week.

Through his brand new hockey mask, Jason watched the teenage girl as she swam around in the middle of the big lake. His hands clenched together, as each one tightened into a fist. The urge to kill these tresspassers had returned, but Jason realized that he needed to wait until dusk. This girl was alone, and the time was still not right, as she now began to swim back towards the shore. The killer concealed himself behind a large, leafy tree.

Lee waded through the water, shivering from the cool air, as she made her way to shore. A beach towel was laid out on the sand, along with her backpack. She dried herself off and reached into her backpack for her walkman and a cigarette lighter. She then pulled out a pink sweater with the word LEE on the front, pulling it over her head.

He watched the girl as she dried herself off, and then seemed to walk in his general direction, toward a cluster of trees. Jason remained still, keeping his position behind the large tree. His eyes continued to follow the teen, stalking her until she came to a rubber tire swing, hanging from a long, thick branch.

Sitting down on the hanging tire, Lee placed the headphones of her walkman on her head, and began tuning the radio. Satisfied, she pulled out her pipe to light it. New wave music blasted in her ears as she swung back and forth on the swing.

The pipe suddenly fell from Lee's grasp, as she swore aloud. As she reached down to retrieve it, the music on the walkman was interrupted by a news bulletin. From the deep sincerity of the newscaster voice, it sounded quite serious as Lee listened. There had been some recent murders in the area, not very far off. It was located very close to the legendary Camp Blood murder site. Lee felt that she could not move, transfixed by the report.

Eight bodies had been discovered, each person dispatched of in the most gruesome fashion. The culprit was still at large.

Suddenly, Lee began to feel that she no longer wanted to remain here, at the Anderson cabin. But how would she get home? She and her friends had hitched a ride halfway to Crystal Lake, and hiked the rest of the way here. It was probably safer to remain inside of a locked cabin with everyone else. Maybe even protect each other, somehow.

A branch snapped behind Lee,causing her to whirl around as she pulled off her headset. "Who's there?" she called nervously. Lee realized that she was getting spooked as she scanned the trees and the woods among her. "Stop playing games, Corey! I know it's you!"

She turned back around, looking up to a tall form standing directly in front of her. A form that wore a hockey mask on it's face. Corey's hockey mask, Lee realized. But the person was clearly not Corey. This man was much larger and wider than him. Lee glanced down to the man's right hand with widening eyes. The monster was holding an ax.

Lee screamed in horror as the ax swung toward her head. Instinctively, she leaned her upper body back, falling backwards off of the rubber tire swing, hitting the ground roughly. The ax missed her by inches, cutting through the rope of the manmade swing. She backed away on her hands and feet, not taking her eyes off of the armed lunatic.

Jason kicked the tire out of the way, as he moved in on the girl. He swung the ax at her again, catching only the bark of an oak tree. She was quick, but alone, and defenseless. The prey would eventually be caught.

Lee was still on the ground, pulling at the grass as she backed away from Jason again. He turned back to her, pulling the ax from the tree as he came at her. The ax was lifted into the air, above his head.

Lee suddenly lunged foward and kicked Jason in his groin, causing him to drop to his knees. The ax fell over beside him.

Seizing the opportunity, Lee scrambled up and ran, barefooted, away from the killer. For a peculiar reason, Lee did not think of running back to the cabin to alert the others. She was was so petrified with fear, that she ran blindly into the woods, intent on hiding from the demented man that had just tried offing her. This couldn't be ... It just couldn't be happening! This had to be the same person mentioned in the news bulletin.

The girl's breathing became rapid, her eyes wide with terror as she peeked around the cluster of bushes that concealed her. The man wearing the hockey mask was stalking back and forth, hunting her, intent on locating her. "Oooooh... what am I gonna do?" she whispered shakily. Lee peeked around the bushes again. The killer was nowhere in sight, but Lee did not move from her hiding spot.

Minutes passed. Lee remained crouched behind the thick bushes until she felt more uncomfortable hiding out in the open. She needed better concealment. She glanced around until her eyes spotted a shed, a distance away.

As quietly as possible, Lee made her way toward the shed through the clearing, looking around her constantly.

She had not imagined the man that wore the strange hockey mask. He was still lurking and she knew it. Could feel him hunting her. Maybe there would be something in the shed that she could use as a weapon to defend herself.

The sky had turned gray and thunder rumbled off in the distance. Lee reached the door of the shed, nearly knocked back from a horrible fish aroma inside. She pushed the door open and slipped easily inside, shutting it behind her. As the light outside began to dim, the shed grew considerably dark. Lee pulled out her lighter, flicking it on. She carefully moved deeper inside.

Lee cried out as she tripped over something in the dark. She landed hard on the floorboards, grunting in pain. Whatever she had tripped over, was quite solid, and of decent size.

The lighter was still gripped in Lee's hand, as her heart hammered in her chest. Reluctantly, she held it up, flicking it on, but dropped it quickly, scooting away, holding back a scream. There was a body laying before her. Lee had seen the large pool of gore and realized that it had been decapitated.

Her sanity appeared long lost as Lee backed against a far wall, a crack of light spilling in from the outside. Just on the girl's left, a pair of eyes seemed to be watching her. They seemed to float in the darkness, as if attached to nothing. Lee peered closer into Corey's bloody, severed head sitting on a bare, dusty shelf.

The door to the shed was pushed open, and shut again. Lee slapped her hands over her mouth, keeping still in the dark. Her heart began to beat furiously. Footsteps now, moving toward her.

Lee's body shook, uncontrollably , due to her fear.

She kept as still as she could, trying to blend with the murk, as the footfalls made their way in her direction. If the girl did not die by the killer's hands, Lee felt certain that she would succumb to fright. She had never known terror as pure as this moment in the shadowy storage shed. Lee looked up .

She could barely make out the silhouette of a tall form, standing between her and the only way out of the shed.

Lee backed away, keeping low to the ground, not completely certain if she could be seen. She continued scooting her body backwards, silently, until she came to a corner, holding her position. The girl did not see the large ragged hole in the boarded floor, behind her.

Jason scanned the murk around him, standing completely still as his head moved side to side. The prey was very close. Inside, somehwhere, hiding from him. He took a step, and another, and the sound of a splash reached his ears.

Lee came up to the surface of the water under the shed, coughing up fluid. She had fallen through a hole in the floor. She suddenly remembered her pursuer, and she froze as she stared wide eyed above her. Only darkess, and the sound of the lapping water.

Minutes passed as Lee stood in the water that came up to her shoulders, shivering. She jammed her mouth closed, to silence her chittering teeth. The shed above her seemed dead silent. She hadn't heard a sound since she had fallen through the hole, but she felt too afraid to move. Lee had no idea how long she would decide to wait this out, but she needed to do something fast and warn the others.

"Lee! Lee! Where are you?" Sally's faint voice, off in the distance. Lee's heart pumped as she reached above her, grabbing one edge of the hole. She lifted herself up, her entire body completely drenched as she prepared to stand and flee from the shed.

Without warning, a strong hand gripped Lee by her neck, another slapped firmly over her mouth. The dark shape above her pushed the girl's face back toward the splintery hole in the floor. Lee's cries were muffled, there was nothing she could do to resist the strong, rough hands that pinned her in place.

Through the mask, Jason glared down at his victim, who struggled helplessly against him. He grabbed Lee's head in both hands, slamming it into the floorboards with brute force. While the girl was in a state of severe daze, Jason grabbed both of her ankles, lifting the girl as easily as if she were a toddler, over the ragged hole.

"No... no.. please," she moaned, before the murderer dunked her back into the hole, headfirst, submerged underwater.

The water swirled and bubbled as Lee struggled like a wild animal. Jason held firm, not reliquishing his grip even the slightest. He stood over the hole, continuing to drown her, as the legs convulsed, arms going wild at the sides. Jason's head cocked to his left as he could hear one of the vacationers outside, shouting for someone.

When he looked back toward the ragged hole, he could see that the girl had gone limp. He jerked Lee's body out, dropping it on the planked floor with a heavy thud. The face had turned completely blue. Sightless eyes peered through Jason as he stared down, curiously, at his fresh kill.

Chapter 7

Sally held a feeling inside of her that Lee had wandered off the property and gotten lost in the forest around them, as she stood in the clearing, near the edge of the shore. Small droplets of water fell from the now gray sky, rippling the calm water. A heavy rainstorm was fast approaching. Sally shouted Lee's name once again, anxious to reach the cabin before she got drenched completely. A loud crack of thunder sounded across the eerie sky, as she made her way past the shed.

Sally eyed the old gray structure, wondering if anyone was inside. There was one way to find out. Her feet carried her halfway to the door of the shed, then Sally stopped, hesitant. She trusted the feeling in her gut that seemed to tell her not to continue any further. As if...some kind of danger was near.

Another, crack of thunder sounded throughout Crystal Lake, and a heavy downpour soon began. Sally turned away from the shed, her feet pounding on the soaked ground as she ran as fast as she could, back to the shelter of the cabin.

"Great. Friggin terrific!" Brett climbed into the tent that David had set up for shelter in an isolated area of woods. David climbed in after her, soaked from the rain. He grinned with excitement. "Nothing like the great outdoors!" he said. He seemed to be having a rather fun time. Brett smiled as she reached into her backpack for a portable radio. She tuned it on, just as an important news bulletin was about to be broadcast.

"Ahhhh," she said. "Got the weather station." The couple sat, listening to the forecast for the rest of the day, as the falling rain pelted against the tent they huddled in. The storm would continue for a good portion of the day, leaving them no choice but to simply wait it out.

"Let's make it our plan to arrive at the cabin tonight," Brett said. "I'd feel a great deal better."

David nodded, trying to get more comfortable in the small tent. It was just big enough for two people.

"Brett, I'm kinda curious about something," David said to her.

"What?"

"Camp Blood. Are we really in the same vicinity? Is it that close?"

Brett sighed. " I think so." She turned and looked him squarely in his eyes. "Why?"

"Well, it don't matter. It's not like you're gonna go along with it." David held his head low, playfully, as Brett watched him. "Ok then," she said smiling. "Then the discussion is over." David's head shot up, a childish grin on his face. "So we're gonna go to Camp Blood?"

"NOO!" Brett clicked off the radio, setting it near an unlit lantern. She cuddled up next to David for warmth, who was anxious to get his strong arms around her. "Maybe," she began, "when we get the van, I'll drive you by it and you can take pictures or something."

David thought a moment before responding to his girlfriend. "Being there would probably upset you, Brett. I'm sorry. I was really just kiddin around." He pulled her closer, catching a sweet, spicy scent from her long hair. "We don't need to go to Camp Blood." said David.

As the rainstorm continued, David laid next to Brett in the tent, who had fallen asleep. Best that they both get a few hours rest before they finished their trek to the cabin. He turned over, placing his arm over the woman next to him, who snored softly. He reached for the radio and clicked it on, tuning to a station that played soft music. Satisfied, David turned over and closed his eyes.

One hour later, the two young people dozed peacefully in their tent, while the radio softly played relaxing music. The rain continued, but the storm had weakened a bit, with some thunder here and there. The music was soon interrupted by another important news bulletin, about the recent murders at a different summer camp in the area. Very unfortunately, Brett and David were oblivious to these recent events, but had they been awake, they would have managed to catch the bulletin. The music soon resumed as the couple slept undisturbed.

Sally and Jameson sat in the living room of the Anderson Cabin, watching the storm through a large window. Paul soon came down the stairs to join them, yawning as he did. He appeared to be just waking up. "What time is it?" he asked groggily.

"One," Jameson replied, feeling bored. "Hopefully it doesn't rain all day." He got up, making his way to the fireplace.

A small stack of firewood rested beside the hearth. Jameson added a few logs and lit a decent fire, feeling a chill in the air.

Sally stood up from the sofa and approached the window, gazing out, not at anything in particular. "Where do you think they are?" she asked.

"Who?", Paul asked.

"Ummmm, Lee? And your friend, Corey?" Sally rolled her eyes.

"Where else would they be? I'm thinking they're in that shed, gettin it on." Paul gave a slick grin as Sally frowned.

"Hey, I know Lee, and her taste in guys goes way beyond pranksters like Corey." Sally moved closer to the hearth, grateful for its warmth. She imagined herself enjoying a smores with a nice hot chocolate, sitting by the fire. "Nevermind." she said." I'm sure they'll probably run in here any minute now." She began to rub her arms. "I really hope they didn't wander off."

"Come on, Sal," Jameson said, not liking the eerie tone in the girl's voice. "They're probably just waiting the storm out in a nearby cave, I dunno." He picked up a television remote, clicking it. The tv switched on. After Jameson switched the channel, a news report came on, featuring a news reporter discussing grimly about the brutal killings that occurred recently in the area. The three occupants of the cabin gathered to watch the report.

The names of the unfortunate victims had not yet been released. But there had been eight of them. All counselors. All in their 20s. All of them slaughtered for no reason.

Jameson felt that he could not move from where he sat. His mouth hung open in shock that a murder had just happened so closeby

"The killer has not yet been apprehended," a voice said from the tv. Upon hearing this,Sally and Paul jumped up, hysterical, as they shouted and screamed over one another.

Jameson stood up and grabbed Sally by the shoulders, shaking her. "YOU GUYS! CHILL! WE'RE SAFE IF WE STAY TOGETHER IN THE CABIN!" He began checking the doors and windows, making sure everything was secured and locked. "Man, I am so not ready for this shit!"

Sally ran into the kitchen, with Paul following behind. She began pulling drawers open, looking for a weapon, a knife. Anything that would stab, slice or rip. She removed a large knife from the drawer. Paul stood beside the girl, almost in a trance, as she shoved a meat cleaver toward him. She placed it in his hands. Paul only looked at the blade stupidly. Sally slapped his face. "Paul, please don't do this right now. You've gotta try and keep cool, man!"

She pulled him close to her, embracing him. "It's gonna be alright."

Paul pulled away. "OK, ok." He wiped his sweaty face. "But we gotta find Corey and Lee, so we'll all be together."

Chapter 8

Brett opened her eyes. The pelting of the rain had stopped, she noticed, after she pushed herself up on her elbows. David was already awake, listening to a weather report on a portable radio. "Rise and shine, sweetheart," he said as Brett stretched her arms above her head. "What time is it?" she asked.

"A little after 3." David replied." The rain's stopping."

"Yea. You rested enough? Gotta keep moving."

"Yeah, we probably should. The sooner we get to the cabin, the sooner we get the van fixed."

Backpacks were gathered up and the tent was disassembled moments later. The trek resumed as the couple trudged on through the wilderness. Nothing much was said between them, their main objective set on making it to the cabin in one piece.

After a while, David said, "Brett?"

"Yea?"

"Do you ever get... like really bad feellings, but you're not sure why?"

"I don't know... I think I may have...when I was little." She looked puzzled for a moment. "Why, Dave?"

He looked different , maybe a little uncomfortable when he spoke again. "I realized that today is the 13th. Friday."

Brett glared at David, questioningly. "Ok. So what? You don't believe in that superstition, do you?"

"All I know," David began, "is that we haven't had much luck since we started this trip. Isn't that weird to you?"

"Coincidence," Brett responded. "That's all. I just want to get to the cabin, and out of these stupid woods."

They continued making their way through the woods along a narrow path, in silence. David followed behind Brett until they came to a fork, dividing off into two opposite directions. Brett pointed to the right.

"That way leads to the cabin. It's about a fifty minute hike from here."

"Okay. We should make it before it gets too dark." David hoisted the pack he wore behind him.

The trail was wide, more than likely used as a regular biking path. The young couple hiked along, passing trees and foliage dampened from the rain. They passed a section of woods that opened into a clearing, where a creek ran before them. Brett knelt down pulled her map out to check it again as David stood over her.

"We must have taken a wrong turn somewhere," Brett said. "Damn. I know we're not that far off."

"This sucks," David said. "We can't be lost, right? Can't be!"

"No, David, we aren't lost. Just give me a minute to think."

"Think? Think about wha..." David stopped. "What's that?

Brett shifted her eyes in the direction where her fiancee pointed. A flimsy rectangular sign hung on a chain, not far from where they stood. Just beyond it, the two could see a path that led somewhere off behind the thick trees.

"Come on," David said.

Brett tensed. "You don't know what's back there!"

David turned and faced her. "We're in the middle of nowhere. It's probably abandoned. Let's check it out,babe."

Brett approached, dropping her pack, reluctantly. She really did not feel like arguing with David, knowing that he was just too much of a thrill seeker. A kid at heart. He stepped over the rusted chain, helping Brett over as well.

David grinned connivingly. "We'll just take a quick look, and we're gone, ok?"

Brett did not answer, only sighed deeply. David's arm wrapped around her. "Come on babe. Live a little."

They turned the bend in the path, disappearing from sight as the sun began setting. On the opposite side of the no tresspassing sign, something had been painted in thick, red letters. It displayed the words, Camp Blood.

The beam from the flashlights streamed back and forth in the approaching twilight, as Sally observed Paul and Jameson, from the safety of the cabin. They were outside, shouting for Corey and Lee, who were still missing. Sally had wanted to go along, not wanting to be by herself, but Jameson told her to wait inside with the door locked.

"Just stay near the door," he had told Sally before they left. "We'll be back in just a few minutes. I know those guys are out there, fooling around, no doubt."

The light was starting to diminish outside, as the sun continued to set, vanishing behind the tall forest trees.

Sally squinted through the glass, keeping her eyes on her two friends, as she gripped a large knife in both of her sweaty palms. The girl realized how nervous she felt, shaking a little too much. Nothing serious had happened yet, but she felt as if danger was very closeby.

Sally took a few deep breaths, trying to relax herself. She went into the kitchen, setting the knife on a counter by the sink. She turned on the faucet, and splashed water on her face a couple of times. As Sally reached for a cloth to wipe her face, the lights in the kitchen went out, causing the girl to freeze.

"Oh noo." she whispered. It was not completely dark in the cabin, but shadowy, the only light originating from the fireplace in the living room. Outside, the daylight continued to fade, soon to envelop the clearing into darkness.

Sally felt for the knife on the counter, gripping it again. She felt somewhat secure as she moved back to the big window, watching the flashlight beams once again.

Jameson and Paul searched the clearing in the approaching gloom for their lost friends in frustration. "I wish those two had just stuck around," Paul said. "Now there's a psycho on the loose, and they've mysteriously vanished!"

Jameson shone his light in the direction where the old shed stood. "I doubt that they're inside. If they were, they would have heard us and come out by now, unless they're screwin around with us."

The young men approached the shed, holding their flashlights as they moved closer to the structure. Jameson wrinkled his nose as he touched the door, his hand on the knob. "Smells like old fish, man."

He pushed the door back a crack, shining his light inside. Jameson could see a few life jackets and boating equipment was stored here. He made a motion for Paul to follow him inside.

From the safety of the cabin, Sally continued watching the shed, Paul following inside behind Jameson. Now it was almost completely dark outside, making it more difficult to see much. She watched as they seemed to be swallowed by the dark, as the two teens moved inside.

Sally's eyes shifted away from the shed as she stood by the large window, trying hard to adjust her eyes to the dark. She hoped that the power would come back on, telling herself that it was more than likely just a busted fuse.

Where was the fuse box in this place? She took a deep breath, remembering that Paul had taken the extra flashlight.

Time seemed to slow down, as she waited for her friends to return. She hated being alone.

The fire from the hearth was dying, so Sally grabbed a log of wood, setting it on the flame. That helped a little. She thought about the articles again, that she had come across the day before, about the murders. Not to mention, the recent news report.

"Oh you guys," she said aloud. "Please hurry up!" She had never been this frightened in her life.

Sally turned away from the hearth, and approached the window again, looking toward the lake. She froze suddenly, her squinting eyes noticing something out in the darkness. A figure was standing motionless very close to the water's edge. A tall, black shape, of someone quite large. As Sally continued to observe the shape, she possessed a strong feeling that she was being observed also, even in the dark.

She rubbed her eyes for a moment, believing that the night was playing tricks on her. "Who the heck is tha..."

The figure was no longer standing by the lake when Sally looked up again. Her eyes shifted, as she stared out through the glass, hoping that it had just been her imagination. She checked the front door again, making sure it was locked. Once Jameson and Paul had returned, she would let them back inside, and suggest that they all arm themselves.

Chapter 9

Inside of the storage shed, Paul's flashlight died, but Jameson still had his. "Be careful," Jameson said. "I don't know where the dumb light switch is." They moved carefully in the dark, with Jameson leading. They came to the rear of the shed. A small hatchet lay on the floor, which Jameson picked up. He handed it to Paul, who stood nervous behind him. "Here," said Jameson. "Watch my back." Paul gripped the weapon, clenching his fingers tightly around the wooden handle.

"I don't think they're in here," Paul stated. "But it sure smells awful."

Jameson turned a corner, shining the light down on the floor. The boards had apparently rotted away somehow, over time, leaving a good size hole, exposing part of the lake underneath. There was blood around the hole. "Shit," they both said, backing away. "This whole thing is too weird, lets bail."

The young men collided with each other, trying to make their way back to the front of the shed. Paul suddenly cried out, as his feet went out from under him, feeling something slippery beneath.

Jameson bent down to help him up, but his body froze, his eyes going wide. There was a dark, maroon puddle on a section of the floor. As the young men stared, they saw that there was a trail of it, leading off into the dark. Jameson shined his light up a bit, illuminating Corey's severed head, sitting on a bare shelf!

Panic overtook both of the teens immediately. Jameson dropped the flashlight, screaming as Paul began to hyperventilate, not quite believing what he had just seen. "Oh...ohh noo.. Corey.. what the..."

Jameson grabbed Paul by his shirt, jerking him away from the awful sight of their dead friend. "COME ON!"

Brett and David stood before a dilapidated cabin in the thick woods. They pulled out their flashlights and shone them around, illuminating other nearby cabins. It had grown darker.

Not very far off, was what looked like an outhouse bathroom. The kind normally seen at summer camps. Brett shuddered, not liking the way this place made her feel. "We need to go, Dave. Now, please?"

David ignored her, and moved deeper through the area, realizing there was a massive lake in the background.

"Babe," he said as he whirled around, facing Brett. "I think this is that place where those murders happened all those years ago, ya know?" He shone his flashlight on a boarded, ruined sign resting on the ground, half buried by dirt and leaves. The sign's words were still legible, reading, Welcome to Camp Crystal Lake.

Excitedly, David pulled off his backpack and dug out his camera. "This is wild", he said amusingly. "The legendary Camp Blood! We're here!"

The flash from the camera illuminated Brett's frowned face, as David snapped two pictures of the old sign at his feet.

"Have you seen enough yet?" Brett asked.

David chuckled. "We just got here, babe." He held out a hand to her. "I just want to see a little bit more, thats all, then we can go."

She began to grow slightly irritated, at David and with herself. He was just like a little kid at times. "Look, It's already dark. Can't we just keep going before we get caught snooping around?"

"By who?" David asked. "There's nobody out here, but us!"

He turned back toward the abandoned camp, nearly bumping into a shape that seemed to come out of nowhere. David cried out in surprise, dropping his camera. He stumbled back, falling on his buttocks in front of Brett. She bent down, grabbing him as they stared in surprise at the figure before them.

The old hermit stared back at them, his face concealed by the dark. He lit a match, momentarily illuminating his hard lined features. A rolled up cigarette jutted from his mouth. He lit it. The faint scent of alcohol was in the air as he spoke. "Lost? " His voice was eerie.

"No, " David answered. "We were just passing by and...

"You really shouldn't be here, friend. Neither of you." A crumpled paper bag stuck out from inside of his frumpy jacket. The man pulled it out, revealing a liqour bottle that met his lips instantly.

"Why?" David rose to his feet, standing next to Brett.

The hermit puffed on his smoke. "Oh, I think you know, son. I think you know."

David could feel his patience wearing thin with the old man. "The camp is abandonded! Do you live here? All we wanted to do was take a loo...

"He's out there." The man drained the bottle, and tossed it aside near bushes. "He's... out there."

David stepped forward, bending down to retrieve his camera. "Look, you're drunk. If you're actually referring to that old legend about Jason Voorhees, then you're not only drunk.." He stood up again. "You're a loon!"

"A great fool, no less," the hermit remarked. "If you're smart, you'll leave Crystal Lake..right now."

David smirked. "No wheels at the moment, as you can see."

He moved closer to Brett, as the old man moved toward them, the smell of the alcohol on his breathe intensifying with every step. "Then I shall pray for you both." He looked directly at Brett, noticing how tense the woman appeared. "Especially you, my dear."

David stepped in front of her protectively. "Hey, she's my girl. Get your own."

"Leave this place!" the old man's tone grew firm. "I've seen bodies, I've seen the apocalypse on two walking legs! You must leave, before you see it yourself!"

Brett grabbed David's arm, tugging at his hoodie. "Please, lets just get out, like he says," she pleaded. Then she bent down and picked up her pack.

Reluctantly, David turned away from the camp, seemingly confused. "Jason Voorhees, is NOT real."

The hermit said nothing as the two of them walked back toward the small path which led them away from the old camp.

Brett turned her head back to the man before they were out of sight. He had dropped to his knees, praying aloud in the dark.

"That guy was nothing but a homless bum," David remarked, clearly agitated. "He reeked completely of booze. The real hard stuff I bet."

He turned to Brett, noticing that she had not said very much. "Hey, you okay, darlin?"

She seemed lost in thought, preoccupied with something heavy on her mind. "Yea, I'm fine. I'm just ready for this night to be overwith."

"I'll say," David replied. These past couple days have been nuts. What's up with that?"

"We should have never come out here," Brett said.

"Aww, come on, don't do that, Brett." David put his arm around her, holding the flashlight in his opposite hand. "Let's just get to the cabin and we can relax." He began to grin. We could go skinnydipping if you want."

"Skinnydipping? In your dreams." She shoved David playfully. "Besides, its too damn cold tonight."

"You know I'll keep you warm, baby." He kissed her forehead, making her blush as they held hands, making their way along the narrow path, in the dark. "Just don't get us lost, ok babe?"

Brett took out her map, shining her flashlight over it. "Okay."

Chapter 10

In the living room, Sally sat on the sofa, toking on her one hitter, strangely unaware that her legs were shaking. Being alone in the house, made her jumpy, filled with the dark corners and shadows.

She stood up and moved back to the big window just as Jameson was running up, shouting for her to unlock the door. Sally responded quick, releasing the locks and pulled the door back.

Jameson bolted in, nearly colliding with Sally. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Where's Paul?"

"Ohh #$# ! He was right behind me, I heard him!" Jameson went back to the front door, looking out in the black. He could see nothing but the moon reflecting off of the black lake.

Nearly on the verge of hysteria, Jameson shut the door and locked it, panting heavily.

"Jameson! What..."

"Corey's dead." The teen could feel tears welling up in his eyes as Sally stared at him, her face starting to break. "That isn't funny, James. I know he liked to play jokes, but I..."

"Corey is %##$# DEAD! I saw his... in the shed, by the pier!" Jameson began sobbing, trying to talk through it. "There was... so much blood... I can't believe this is happening!"

He sank down against the front door, as if defeated. "The # # # killer is here!"

Sally realized that she was in the middle of a living nightmare that would never end. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, then exhaled. It was up to her to try and keep focused without going into the same kind of panic as Jameson was in this moment. She had to keep cool for them both, if they wanted to survive.

"James, listen to me, I'm still here with you. You're not alone..." Sally remembered seeing a flare gun or two in the front of the shed the day before. The shed that she had been hesitant to enter. Sally stooped to the floor next to the crying teen.

"We need to go back to the shed. I saw flare guns inside. We can use them to protect ourselves."

"Sally there's a killer out there!" Jameson buried his face in his hands. "And he's got Paul too!"

"We have to look out for each other, watch each other's back!" Sally's voice thickened." Do you think you can do that? We need to get those flare guns, and whatever else we could ..."

In the living room, the big picture window suddenly exploded in a million fragments of broken shards of glass! A body crashed through the frame, landing solidly on the rugged floor, on top of the glass!

Sally and Jameson both jumped, staring in utter horror and disbelief at the dead, bloodied body of Lee. The eyes stared emptily at nothing, as the fire from the hearth illuminated the horrible scene in orange light. Sally screamed, nearly dropping her knife.

"This isn't happening! This ain't happening!" Jameson quickly got to his feet, unlocked the door behind him, and bolted out into the night.

Sally started to shout for him, but didn't, not wanting to give him away to the killer who had just sent Lee's body crashing through the window.

All became silent again, as the sound of Jameson's pounding feet grew distant.

Not sure of her next move, Sally inched backward, away from the kitchen, still holding her knife. The suspense of not knowing whether the killer had gone after Jameson, or was still outside of the cabin, drove her mad with fear. She tried making as little noise as possible, wishing that she had a flashlight.

The one thing on her mind right now, was somehow getting to the shed for a better weapon...like a flare gun. But it was dead silent outside, only a cold breeze that Sally could feel on her skin, blowing through the destroyed window. The girl felt sure that the sick freak was waiting for her to make a run for it outside. As if in agreement, her heart thudded furiously.

If she waited any longer, the fear would completely overtake her, and she wouldn't be able to think straight. Sally had to act, and fast, before all the worst occurred.

The girl crouched low, keeping as much to the dark shadows as she could, all while keeping her eyes on the window and the darkness beyond. Sally wanted to see her attacker, but at the same time, didn't want to. She remembered seeing a dark figure standing by the lake, before all hell had broken loose. But she had been too far away to really make out much detail.

Sally waved the knife behind her, feeling her way in the dark. She realized that she had backed into a short corridor of the cabin. She continued inching away from the dim living, very certain that she had not been seen. Maybe the murderer wasn't out there anymore.

Her hand felt along the wall in the dark feeling something. There was a door here, where the corridor ended. Sally felt for the knob, grasping it carefully. She prayed that the hinges would not squeal as she eased it open. To her luck, the door did not make a sound.

She silently stuck her feet through the threshold of the door, sliding her buttocks on the tile floor, into the pitch black. She pulled the door closed behind her, and sighed, but not too loud. Her hand reached into the pocket of her shorts, pulling out her butane lighter. She flicked it on.

She had reached the basement of the cabin. She sat at the top of the steps, a look of fear on her face as she held up the lighter. There was a bend in the stairwell, down about seven steps. If there were weapons in the old shed, maybe there would be something useful down in the basement as well.

Sally slowly stood up, beginning to inch down the stairs without making any noise. As she reached the bend in the stairwell, the lighter grew hot in her hand, causing her to drop it on the step. Blackness enshrouded her once again.

Sally reached down for the lighter, waiting a moment for it to cool off. She flicked it back on... and a big, dirty hand seized her by the throat. Before Sally dropped the lighter again, she had caught a brief glimpse of an enormous figure with his face covered by Corey's hockey mask. The exact same one he had used to scare her.

Sally kicked and sqirmed as she was lifted up in the stairwell. As much as she tried, she could not breath, as the killer's grip grew tighter around her neck, choking the life out of her. It was so dark, that the doomed girl could see nothing in front of her, but she could feel the closeness of the man strangling her now. Her consciousness began to fade, as the darkness around her turned pitch black.

Chapter 11

"We're getting pretty close," Brett mentioned to David as the wind began to pick up, rustling dead leaves into their path. "It's looking more familiar to me as we move on."

David could not hear Brett, due to his headphones blaring rock music in his ears. She nudged him, getting his attention, as she pulled his headphones back from his right ear. "I said we're getting close,babe. Better get ready for your skinnydip." Brett laughed at herself, while David removed the headphones, setting them around his neck.

"Don't laugh, Brett. I'm going to personally dump you in the lake with all of your clothes on."

"Yea, we'll see. If you do, you'll never get to third base with me, pal o mine."

David laughed that time, but he felt hardly amused. Third base was a serious issue for him with Brett. "Ya know," he began, "it's really not very nice to tease..."

Brett smiled sarcastically in the dark. "You'll be okay. Heh heh."

They walked on, for what did not seem like a very long time, until they came to a jumble of thick foliage. Brett pushed her way through, with David close behind. Once the two emerged, they both dropped their packs and fell out on the grass. The walk had been pretty exhausting, the two of them nearly ready to crash for the night. Only not inside of a tent.

"Come on." Brett stood up, grabbing her back pack. "Lets go in the house. It's gotten pretty chilly and the wind has picked up. Gonna be cold tonight."

David was in agreement as he also stood, brushing his clothing off. "So much for that skinnydip."

Brett only smiled again as the two made their way towards the Anderson Cabin.

Unwanted feelings of confusion and puzzlement enveloped the young couple as they observed the clearing. A full moon hung in the night sky, illuminating the house and outside enough for Brett and David to take in their surroundings.

Apparently, tresspassers had been on the property, were probably still here, along with their empty beer bottles around a firepit, and a few items of scattered clothing.

"What the hell?" Brett said aloud. She and David moved closer to the cabin. David could see that Brett was fuming, as she struggled out of her back pack, dropping it at the base of the porch stairs. She stormed up, reaching for the door handle. "Locked."

Brett dug into a pocket of her jeans for a set of keys. Before she had a chance to unlock the door, David called out to her. "Brett, you need to see this.."

She sighed as the strong wind ruffled her hair, moving around the bend in the porch where she had heard David's voice. After she rounded the corner, Brett gasped.

"Look at this crap," said David. Looks like the place has been trashed." The large picture window of the cabin was glass free, with pieces jutting dangerously from the frame. Inside of the living room,broken glass seemed to be everywhere.

"I'm calling the cops! This is BULL!" Brett stormed away. David had never seen his fiancee so fueled up. It strangley aroused him greatly, hoping she could be just as angry in bed.

Could be fun, he thought, but now was definetely not the time for that. He was sure that if he brought it up to her now, she would plant one on him, right on the spot. Not a kiss,but a clean right hook. He had already been elbowed by her in the stomach.

Brett unlocked the front door , leaving it ajar for David to come in behind her. She tried the lights, but nothing happened. "Damn it! Power is out too, Dave... Dave?"

She was alone inside of the cabin. "David, what are you doing?" Brett stuck her head out, looking around on the porch. She shouted his name,over and over, only answered by the raging winds. "This isn't the time for games. I'm serious, babe!"

Glass crunched under Brett's low top sneakers, as she walked around the living room, looking at the damage. She knelt down, studying a section of the floor. Something else besides the glass caught the woman's attention. She carefully touched her index finger to the floor. "Blood?" A puddle of it was on the floor, turning some of the glass shards a dark red.

Something deadly serious had happened in the last few hours. The cabin was silent. She felt as if she were completely alone, but Brett noticed there were unrecognizable belongings still here, more than likely considered valuable to the tresspassers.

A wallet rested on a nearby table by the sofa. Brett rose and approached, picking the wallet up. She opened it, fingering through it, looking for an ID card. She pulled a card out, displaying a picture of a young looking male with dark hair, scowling at the camera.

Brett's eyes nearly bulged. "Jameson, you son of a #**$%!" 

Chapter 12

Remembering that she had left her backpack outside, Brett stepped back on the porch, and down the four steps to the lawn. The blood on the floor, inside, was strange. Maybe Jameson or one of his cronies left for the hospital to get stitched up from some accident involving the broken window. There certainly didn't seem to be anyone around.

Brett grabbed her pack and turned back to reenter the cabin. She was almost up to the porch when someone literally crashed into her, almost knocking her off the steps.

"What the... who the *&*%$ are you? Did you trash my house, you shit?" She glared at the tall young man waiting for some kind of answer. "Where's Jameson? Is he with you?"

Brett could see that the boy's white polo shirt was all stained with what could have only been blood. He seemed to be in shock, Brett having to resort to slapping his face. She shook him a little, demanding some explanation. Paul's wild eyes seemed to stare through Brett.

"We're all gonna die. He's going to kill us!" He pulled at Brett's jacket, staining the sleeves with blood. "He... he...he ki.. he killed..."

"Stop it!" Brett was growing more frustrated. "Who is going to kill us? What the hell is going on here!"

Paul stared her directly in her eyes, as his own filled with tears. "Jason Voorhees!" He began to look around him in a panic, terrified of the surrounding dark in the clearing.

Brett's facial expression changed, no longer angry, but now more grim.

"Where's Jameson?" she asked Paul, gripping his arm.

"I don't know. Two of my friends are dead, and I don't know where Sally and Jameson are!"

Brett pushed Paul up the stairs toward the cabin, shoving him through the doorway. She shut the door, locking it, swearing to herself for forgetting about the picture window. The two of them would not be safe here.

Brett unzipped her backpack, digging through it, remembering that David had packed something that she could use in self defense. "Ohh David, where are you?" she whispered to herself.

She withdrew the big hunting knife from the backpack, removing the sheath. The storage shed by the water would likely have something more sufficient, but the knife would have to do for now. Brett looked up.

"Hey, guy, what's your name?"

The bloody young man stood in a far corner of the room, away from the window and broken glass. He sniffled. "P...P Paul."

"Paul, I'm Brett." She walked over to where he leaned against the wall,shaking with fear.

Brett lowered her voice a bit, so that only Paul could hear her.

"I want you to take this knife. Don't be afraid to use it. Just not on me, ok?"

Paul nearly chuckled, and slowly took the knife from the woman's grip.

He noticed that she seemed to be holding up rather well, despite their situation. One of them had to stay cool and try to deal with their massive problem. He realized that he was probably going to die tonight. But he felt grateful to have Brett now.

"Paul. I need you to come with me, to the shed. Can you do that?" Brett pushed her jacket sleeves up, hiding the blood.

"Yea, I think so," Paul answered.

Brett wiped the sweat from her brow as she and Paul made their way to the front door, again.

They moved silently through the moonlit clearing, Brett in the lead, with Paul following behind with the knife. The wind had died down a bit, but not completely, as clouds floated across the sky rapidly.

Brett eased up to the door of the shed, pushing it open a bit. A smell of dead fish reeked out, to her disgust. She then turned to face Paul. "Just stand in the doorway, where we can see each other." She held up a small, but bright flashlight, shining it inside. "I'm going to look for something in here. I'll be as quick as I can."

Brett put a hand on Paul's shoulder. "OKAY?"

He seemed to relax a little, but otherwise, still freaked out.

He managed a weak smile. "OK. I'll be right here." He held the big knife in both hands, ready to rip and slice open this psychopath lurking on the property.

With a deep breath, Brett turned back to the door of the shed, pushing it open all the way. Immediately, to the right of the door, inside a few feet, two flare guns hung from the wall, by 2 nails driven into the drywall. She pocketed one, handing the other one outside to Paul, who stood watch by the entrance.

Brett continued deeper inside, shining the light ahead of her.

Suddenly, she stopped, staring down at the decapitated body on the floor, at the spill of dark blood. Brett prayed that this was not Jameson, as she moved past, toward the back of the shed. She carefully stepped around the large hole in the floor, making her way past it. "Oh my God," she whispered. "This is really happening again?!"

Brett shined her light down, illuminating a massive chest, covered with dust and cobwebs. She noted the lock that held the chest closed. Brett pulled out her keys, checking to see if maybe she had the right one on her keyring. None of them were the proper keys.

"Damn it," she said , starting to get up. "I need to get into that case." She looked around for something to bash the small lock off with. Glancing to her right she saw a large ax, and a chainsaw resting on a nearby shelf

Pushing her long hair behind her, Brett moved close to the shelf. She didn't expect to find a lumbering hockey mask wearing lunatic in the corner, waiting for her!

Chapter 13

Jason emerged from the shadows, quick, scaring the daylights out of Brett, who staggered backward, screaming. Her eyes shifted toward what the monster held in his clenched hand. A big jungle machete! He moved toward her, raising the blade.

Thinking quickly, Brett adjusted her small flashlight, making the light extremely bright. She shined it up to the eyeholes of the hockey mask, temporarily blinding Jason.

A long, wooden oar stood behind Brett, next to the big chest. She grabbed it fast, swinging it at Jason's oversized head. She struck him hard with it, and hit him again, causing it to break in two, sending him staggering against the wall. He sank to his knees, in some pain.

Without hesitating, Brett dropped the pieces of the broken oar and fled from the back of the shed. She rounded the corner, making sure not to slip on the blood of the decapitated body.

"Run!" she shouted. "Paul, RUNN!" Paul took off running in the direction of the house, looking back for Brett occassionally. Brett emerged from the doorway, running like a champion sprinter.

She veered off in the dark, and Paul lost sight of her. He stopped running, and ducked behind the blue Volkswagon Beetle, parked under a tree. He took cover there, scanning the dark for Brett. Jason was nowhere in sight either.

Paul moved to another, rather larger tree and crouched down beside it in the dark. He called out to Brett, who did not answer. Paul grew nervous. "Shit!"

The dark tree, standing literally over Paul... moved.

"OOOhhhhhhh NOOOOO!" Jason had been standing there the entire time, waiting to grab Paul. Large hands tightened around the boy's neck as he kicked his feet at the mass murderer, dropping the hunting knife in the process. This was indeed it, for Paul, who closed his eyes, waiting to feel the machete slice into him.

There was the sound of pounding footfalls of someone running, and getting close. Jason was too distracted with Paul to notice Brett appearing out of nowhere it seemed. She ducked, and rolled, easily obtaining the fallen hunting knife.

"Remember me, you bastard?" Brett stabbed Jason hard in the hand that held the machete, pinning him to the tree that stood behind him. A deep groan of agony errupted from the mouth behind the hockey mask, as the weapon fell from his impaled hand.

But Brett was not yet through.

She picked up the machete, stabbing Jason deep in his leg, and Paul was released, crumbling to the grass. Brett held on to the machete as she tended to Paul.

Blood soaked through the right leg of Jason's work pants. He reached toward the knife that pinned his other hand to the tree bark.

Paul and Brett wasted no time scrambling to their feet and taking off again.

Something whistled in the air, past Brett, missing her by inches. Ahead of her, Paul screamed as he toppled over, crashing into the ground. Brett leaned over him, the hunting knife embedded into Paul's left shoulder.

"Come on, get up!" Brett did her best to lift Paul up, who nearly screamed, in severe pain. She looked up to see Jason limping in their direction. "At least I hurt him a bit," she thought to herself.

They frantically staggered toward the house, Brett trying to think of what to do, how to evade this thing... this monster. At least she still held onto Jason's machete. Not to mention the flare gun.

Paul slipped and fell on the porch stairs as Jason made it halfway to him and Brett, who tried to get him on his feet. Paul's arm bled profusely, with the knife still sticking out of his shoulder. "# #$$%%!" He tried to get up, but the pain was immense.

Jason stood over his victims, intent on ending the both of them. Brett pulled out her flare gun, firing it off at Jason's head. It only ricocheted off of the hockeymask. He glared down at them.

All of a sudden, Jason was knocked back by a brutal swing from Jameson's baseball bat, once, twice, three times! Jameson moved in on the staggering, dazed killer. He looked like he had been through hell. "You screw with my sister, then you screw with me, you hockey masked FREAK!"

With Jameson distracting Jason, Brett helped Paul to his feet, supporting him. She dragged him into the cabin and down a small corridor, leading to a basement. Brett pulled out her small flashlight. Bright light filled the stairwell, as Brett and Paul descended the steps. "Gotta find the fuse box," she said.

Paul slid down to the dirty ground, as Brett located the fuse box. She switched the lights back on and...

To their horror, Brett and Paul discovered two more bodies in the basement. Paul recognized Sally's bloodless corpse, while Brett screamed at the sight of her fiancee, David. He had been brutally nailed to a wooden beam.

Brett sobbed as she turned away from the awful sight, wishing that she had never brought David here. She glanced up toward the first floor, remembering that her brother was fighting Jason on his own.

Brett tore off her jacket, ripping a strip from the sleeve to use as a binding for Paul's fatal shoulder injury. Then she set the machete on the floor, beside him"You stay down here, Paul. Hide, until we come back and get you!"

He was not especially thrilled with that idea, although, Paul obeyed Brett. "Where are you going?" he asked.

Brett looked grim and battered, yet virtually determined. "To finish this."

Chapter 14

Brett eased up the stairs, the hallway now lit with the power back on. She could hear Jameson outside, yelling, taunting the giant in the dark. "Come ON YOU PIECE OF..." He swung the bat at one of Jason's big knees, who groaned, but apparently not in a great deal of pain. Hopefully, Jameson would be able to distract him a little longer... while she snuck back to the storage shed.

Brett picked up a nearby telephone, holding it up to her ear. There was no dial tone.

"Shit!" She moved toward the back of the house, past the basement, approaching a laundry room. Brett came to a window, slid it open and climbed out. In the dark, she edged her way around the back of the cabin, feeling the ancient wood on her palms.

The phonebox had been ripped completely from the house. The police and ambulance where out of the question, which was what they all desperately needed right now.

Leaving her no choice, Brett moved away from the house, keeping out of sight from Jason, as he remained distracted by her brother. The shed was only 30 yards away. She could hear Jameson fighting, trying to beat the killer to death with the baseball bat.

Brett moved quickly, unwilling to waste anymore time.

Inside of the shed, Brett moved to the back , turning her flashlight on again. She removed the heavy chainsaw from the shelf, holding it up on her hip. With all of her strength, she attempted to start it, but it would not. It needed gas, but there was none around. Brett dropped the saw and reached back towards the shelf for the axe. She frantically began chopping at the small metal lock. "COME ON!..." Brett chopped harder, intent on getting the chest open.

To her astonishment, after a few more good blows from the ax, the miniature lock clinked to the floor of the shed!

Brett pushed her hair away from her sweaty face, as she knelt before the chest. She pushed the lid back, observing the contents inside. "YES!"

Jason and Jameson circled one another as they continued their fight to the death. Only the young boy was armed, as Jason was not, only relying on his bare hands.

"That all you got? Huh FREAK?" Jameson would not admit it, but he was enjoying whooping this sucker. The bad part about it was that the killer was obviously not ordinary, able to withstand numerous blows from the bat, and getting stabbed twice. He didn't seem to be going down, like a normal man would.

Jameson ran at Jason, swinging the bat hard. Jason stood motionless as the teen came at him in a fury of hard swings from the weapon.

Suddenly, one of Jason's great hands shot up, catching the end of the bat!

Jameson looked dumbfounded, unable to wrench the bat away from his opponent. "Sonova..."

Jason struck Jameson in the face with his own weapon, knocking him flat to the ground.

As if in triumph, the deformed man, stood over the fallen teen, raising the bat up above the boy. His next kill.

The killer's moment was rudely interrupted by a speeding arrow, which punctured deep into the back of Jason's bald head. The bat fell to the ground, as Jason reached back to pull the arrow out. Soon, another arrow was launched at him, striking the middle of his chest. Blood, almost black, poured out of him.

Brett stood in a wide stance, 20 feet away, loading another arrow into her bow. She was down to four now. Between her feet, rested a big lumberjack ax.

Brett picked up the ax, and boldly moved closer to Jason Voorhees. He was on his knees, still trying to remove the arrows. When he caught sight of her walking casually towards him, he got to his feet, starting to walk toward her as well.

Brett dropped the ax in the grass and raised her bow and arrow again, aimed and fired off another shot at him. The arrow went deep through Jason's eye socket, the head of it rupturing through the other side. The killer was drenched in his own blood, as it soaked into the dampened grass around him.

The bow and arrow were dropped to the ground at Brett's feet. Then she stooped, retrieving the ax from the grass again. The woman moved toward the bleeding mess before her.

His vision partially blinded, Jason pulled uselessly at the arrow impaled through his skull. Brett almost felt sorry for the pathetic wounded creature as she moved closer, the ax held in her hands. She knew what needed to be done. It was now, or never.

As if in some wild, crazy, dream, Brett raised the ax, bringing it down hard on the middle of Jason's head. She wrenched it free, chopping at him again. She repeated this nearly nine times, wanting to make certain, that he would stay down for good.

Jason's skull was spit and reduced to a horrible, oozing, bloody mess.

Chapter 15

Brett made her way over to Jameson, still down from his fight earlier. He was alive, but unconscious. Brett went inside and helped Paul out of the basement, assisting him over to her blue Beetle, parked outside. "I'm taking you both to the hospital." Brett dug out her extra car key, and climbed into the driver's seat. The headlights came on as the vehicle started up, illuminating a still living Jason. He stood before the car, literally soaked in his own blood.

"Are you serious?!" Brett shouted in astonishment. She floored the accelerator, intent on running the killer over. He sidestepped, avoiding the vehicle as it sped past his towering form. Brett turned her head back and spun the car around, seeing that Jason was heading back for Jameson and Paul, who screamed at the sight of him, still alive.

Brett sped the car over to where Paul waited, dirt and dust swirling in the night air. Brett screamed at him. "Help me get James in the car! You've got to help me!"

Ignoring his own pain as much as he could, Paul helped her lift Jameson's unconscious body into the back of the Volkswagon, between cries of agony,due to his severe shoulder injury. Jason was nearly upon them,limping,but rather quickly.

"GET IN!"Brett shouted, as she dove into the driver's seat, hands clenched to the steering wheel. Paul got in through the passenger's side, just as Jason swung an ax, damaging part of the frame of the car. Paul screamed hysterically as Brett hit the gas, Jason growing smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror. The killer only stood motionless, watching as the small car sped off into the night.

Brett drove along the path through the forest , her hands sweating against the steering wheel. The clearing behind, soon disappeared as the car drove on, Brett sighing in relief. She glanced at Paul who seemed alright, but in shock from the night's events. "I just wanna go home," he muttered. Then he looked foward through the windshield, screaming.

Brett hit the brakes, nearly running into Jason Voorhees! Somehow, he had gotten ahead of them, which seemed very impossible. His axe swung down at the windshield, spraying glass onto Brett and Paul. Brett quickly shifted gears and reversed backwards, away from the savage killer. Unfortunately, a rear tire splashed into a gully. Brett hit the gas, but the car would not move any further. "THIS AIN'T GOOD!"

Jason began moving toward his intended victims, their car stuck in a muddy puddle. This time, he would finish off the three of them, once and for all. He had had enough toying around.

Brett reached down for the big machete and got out of the car, facing toward the giant approaching. This was the last stand.

Realizing that this would probably be her last night alive, Brett gripped the machete in both of her palms as she stood before Jason. She had never been more afraid in her life, but she refused to let it overcome her. Not if she planned on killing this monster.

A loud gunshot broke the silence and Brett ducked to the ground as another blast followed. She looked up.

Two bloody holes had been blown through Jason's torso, from behind him. The earth seemed to tremble as his body hit the ground, the ax no longer in his hands. Standing a short distance off, was a man that Brett recognized, as he stepped closer. The hermit that she and David had run into at the old abandoned camp.

"Go on," the man said to Brett as he held a double barrel shotgun. "Get outta here!"

Brett pointed behind her towards the Volkswagon Bug. "Car's stuck!"

The man squinted his eyes, seeing her predictament, then he tossed her a set of keys, which she caught in her hand. "Take my truck. It's just around the bend in the path."

The old hermit helped Brett move her brother and Paul to a battered white pickup truck,which inside, reeked of cigarette smoke. Jameson had been hauled into the backseat of the cab.

"Now leave. Get to the hospital and stay as far away from here as you can!" Brett could only obey, desperately wanting to get herself and her two companions to safety. But she did not pull off immediately. "Come with us, please!"

The man ignored her, only stepping away from the truck. "GO. NOW!"

The truck sped off into the night, leaving the hermit alone on the dark path. He reached into his quilted jacket pocket, producing a shotgun shell, loaded his gun, and made his way back to Jason's fallen form.

There was nothing on the path but a mess of blood, where Jason's body had been. Startled, the hermit whirled around, pointing the gun in every direction. Not a sound came from the woods as the man moved along the path, the full moon offering some light. He circled a tree, then stood with his back to it, scanning the dark, and listened.

"Vanished," he thought to himself. He pulled out a silver flask, swallowing a few gulps of whiskey. The hermit had always been a heavy drinker, ever since his son had been born a very long time ago. As he walked along the path, back toward the opposite direction, he thought to himself. He would never admit to anyone the reason he had become such an alcohol abuser, being the father of a brutal mass murderer, Jason Voorhees.


End file.
